


Happy With You

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: 2NE1, I.O.I (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, POV First Person, because the song gives me too many dang feels, story based on a paul mccartney song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 23:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: After years of feeling hopeless and empty, Minji meets someone who teaches her how wonderful and powerful friendship can be.





	Happy With You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to my three best friends, Lydia, Katie, and Mimi. I hope you know how much you mean to me.

The past seven years of my life were miserable. I’m not entirely sure why—probably a combination of not finding a good job and living in an awful apartment—but whatever the reason, I just wasn’t happy.

I cut myself off from everyone. It had been so long since I quit answering my parents’ phone calls that they stopped calling. It was probably for the best—whatever pain they might have felt each time their calls went to voicemail couldn’t have been as bad as the pain they would have felt from learning that their ‘precious little Minji’ was still a massive disappointment.

And it wasn’t just my family—the handful of friends I had made in high school slipped away, too. Whether they moved away, got married, went to college, or just got sick of me, they all left, one by one. They were probably better off without me holding them back, anyway.

But at least I survived—physically, anyway. Mentally and emotionally…I was an empty shell, going through the motions of life. But whatever, it was good enough.

Until twelve months ago, when I barely made rent. And eleven months ago, when it happened again. I’ve heard people say that sometimes you need to hit rock bottom before you can climb back up. I guess they were right.

I took on a few extra shifts at the restaurant and started saving. Then I went online to do some research, filled out some forms, and eventually signed up for a photography class at the community college. It had been so long since I’d thought about my childhood dream, but hey, there was nowhere left to go but up, right? At least, that’s what I kept telling myself each time I got back home from work at one in the morning and collapsed into bed without even changing out of my uniform.

Then the first day of class arrived. As I walked across campus, clutching my sad little bag to my chest, I was unbelievably out of place. Everyone was so much younger than I was. They were talking to friends. Smiling. In every way, the exact opposite of me. I snuck into the classroom anyway, hoping to at least suffer through _one_ day of class so that I could convince myself that I had accomplished _something_.

I’ll never forget what happened next. How could I possibly forget the moment that changed my life?

The chair beside me creaked, and a bookbag plopped down next to my feet. I looked up, and I saw _you_. _Smiling_ at me.

“_Hi, I’m Somi_,” you said, extending your hand. I didn’t think much of our handshake in the moment, but looking back, I’m convinced that it was fate that brought us together that day.

We spent the next ten minutes before class started engrossed in conversation—though, admittedly, you did most of the talking. You told me about your sister, your camera, and your nails (which you had painted two whole weeks ago and they hadn’t even started chipping yet, thanks to the new top coat brand you found—yes, I still remember).

Then you asked to see some of the photos I had taken with my camera. I hesitated, not wanting to admit that I didn’t have any legitimate experience and that my photos were all amateur. But as I watched you sitting there, staring at me wide-eyed and expectantly, something told me that you wouldn’t judge.

So, I grabbed my camera and scrolled through the camera roll, holding my breath. But as you ripped the camera from my hands with your jaw dropped in awe while you went on and on about my, quote, _ability to capture the beauty in everything_, something changed within me. I felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long, long time—hope.

But that glimmer of hope didn’t compare to the excitement I felt the next day of class when you sat next to me again, greeting me by name. Within a week, I found myself thinking of it as ‘your chair,’ and ‘our table.’ I looked forward to class because it meant I got to see you.

Then you asked me if I wanted to study with you in the library, and I didn’t have to wait until class to see you anymore. I loved our study sessions, even though most of our ‘study’ time was spent playing our silly paper football game and trying not to get in trouble with the librarian for laughing too loudly.

When we had our first project, I still remember how we spent hours walking around town looking for the best photo opportunities even though, somehow, most of our pictures ended up being of each other—I guess I should have known that would happen, seeing as how you’re the self-proclaimed queen of Instagram. Then, as the sun began to set, you dragged me to the ice cream stand that caught your eye. I asked you why you wanted to take a picture of it, and you told me to _forget about the photos for the project, let’s just get ice cream and hang out_.

That was the day I realized that I hadn’t just found a classmate, I had found a friend.

My late-night shifts at the restaurant haven’t been so bad since you started sitting at your table in the front for hours on end, spending the less-crowded moments reading me the silly jokes and memes you find on your phone. And it’s amazing to finally have someone who loves shopping as much as I do so that I don’t have to feel guilty for dragging you to all those name brand stores to try on too expensive clothes for our dressing room fashion shows.

But I think my favorite memory is our disastrous picnic in the park. Between shooing all the bugs away, accidentally dropping my sandwich on the ground (while trying to escape from a bee, of course), and screaming as the sprinklers turned on—soaking our food, blanket, and clothes—I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my life. In the past, I would have just looked at the situation as another failure in a long string of my failures. But with you, I just brushed it off, packed up my soggy picnic basket, and let you drag me by the hand as we sprinted through the water, giggling like children—because when I’m with you, even the worst days feel special.

Even my career goals are starting to take shape thanks to you. Last week, when you said that you had recommended me to one of your high school friends as a photographer for her senior pictures, I was shocked for two reasons. The first was that you had friends who were young enough to be in high school—I had long since forgotten about our seven-year age difference. The second reason was that you thought I was qualified for the job—and, of course, when I voiced my doubts, you didn’t hesitate to list fifty reasons why I’d be the perfect photographer to capture your friend’s precious moments.

But today, as I wake up early in the morning to get to work editing the photos from yesterday’s photoshoot, those photos of your high school friend aren’t the ones on my mind. How could they be, when my vision is filled with the dozens of pictures of us that I hung up around my room? My cheap little apartment doesn’t feel so empty with your face smiling at me from all four walls.

I walk into my bathroom to get ready, but I pause to look at the picture that I taped up on the mirror to greet me every morning and night. You know the one—I’ve told you many times that it’s my favorite. It’s the one where you’re pretend-kissing my cheek while I’m laughing and pretend-shoving you away. Along the top of the picture in pink ink is the unmistakable scrawl of your big, loopy handwriting:

_#SoMinji, best friends 4eva _❤❤

As I look at the two of us together, I can’t help but smile. My smile still doesn’t shine nearly as brightly as yours, but if it wasn’t for you, mine wouldn’t even be shining.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Happy With You by Paul McCartney.


End file.
